


Burning Love

by AndeliaMaddock



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal, Bisexual Male Character, Bullet wound, Dancing, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Just Dudes Being Dudes, M/M, Oops, Spanking, Teasing, sex being seen as something of a game to be won
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: King notices Pacer's acting a bit weird. That noticing hits a high point when Pacer suggests that King and the girls play a bit of strip poker.King comes to realizations.Pacer figures King is acting a bit strange himself. He catches on soon enough, though.





	1. King's POV

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobCo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobCo/gifts).



> The groupy girls never got named in Fallout: New Vegas and I always thought that was a bit bullshit. So, here they are, as I imagine them.

Pacer stretched his arms out high over his head, and arched his back. The Jailhouse rocker lifted just enough that the hint of hair and taut skin showed just under the stripe shirt.

King glanced back down to the pool table, and leaned in for another shot. "Hey, Babygirl, think you might run down and get us all a couple a sasses?"

Delilah, the cutest blonde he ever did see (even if sometimes he was fairly certain he saw roots of brown peeking out) kissed him on the cheek, and strut right out of the room. That pretty little swinging skirt swayed nicely around her knees, and showed off her soft calves.

Pacer cracked his neck, then moved right up between King. He leaned in over to watch him make the shot from right up close. "Just think. If you make the shot, you win."

"You're not gonna psych me out, Pace." He focused right strongly on the ball before him. But that cologne clung nice. Really filled the otherwise dry air.

They breathed hot against his ear. "But if you miss, you and I both know I'll take the game. The King will fall."

"It's just a game." He didn't even look over. And if they put a hand on either side of his hips, and pressed up a bit closer just to try and get him to mess up, that didn't matter a damn bit. He pulled back just a bit, and struck the ball.

"Oooh. Bad luck."

"Luck nothing. Get yourself offa me, before I tan your hide." He grunted, and pushed his shoulder up into their chest. "You know, some guys, they grow out of being a damn cheater when they're kids. But not you, nope."

"Some guys, they grow outta being a sore loser." Pacer grinned, and positioned himself firmly on the other side of the table, ready to make his own shot.

King snorted, but couldn't help but smile a little bit himself. After all, it was a nice look on Pace, when he smiled. He never mentioned that though, seeing as how that'd likely set Pace a frowning for weeks. Stubborn fool.

"Watch and learn, King."

"Uh huh." He saw. The way they leaned in over the felt, and that jacket of his crawled up his back until skin met the warm Summer air. "I wouldn't mind if it were just a bit cooler tonight."

"You're right. It's not the kind of weather for a lot of clothes." Pacer didn't even bother to look up.

Delilah took dainty steps into the room. Another kiss, from cheek to cheek, and she handed him a sarsaparilla with a smile and wink, then strut over to Pace and handed his onto the railing just beside where he lined up his shot. "Who's winning?"

"Definitely me." Pacer's tongue crept out just a bit, and stayed there while he focused on just how best to work his shot.

"How come you're taking so long to hit the ball?" Delilah sat on the railing beside Pacer, and leaned in close. "Just hit it."

King chuckled. "Babygirl, maybe don't distract him so much? Then again, he distracted me and I missed. How about you lean on in there and shake a bit in front of him?" He grinned at her, but she seemed focused on something else.

"How'd he distract you, King?" She looked up with wide pretty blue eyes.

He glanced between the two, and noted a subtle smirk on Pacer's lips. He hit the 8 ball, and it slammed into the final ball and knocked it into a hole. "Yeah, King. How did I distract you? I was just standing there."

She tilted her head, and kept her eyes focused on the King for another moment, before she glanced back down to the game and clapped her hands together. "Oh, you win, right? Ah, King, Baby, I can make you feel better since you lost. Don't you worry none." Up she hopped, and rushed over, bust a shaking from side to side with every step.

He held her in an embrace, but his eyes focused on Pacer.

They rolled theirs, and put the stick on the table. One hand caught the bottle of sass without a glance at it, and the other ran long fingers through his hair. "Think I'll go see if Sergio's up to give me another trim. It's getting so long, I can hardly keep my hands out of it." He tugged up a bit, and glanced sidelong over at the King. "Think I should try a new style, King?"

"Long. It uh, looks good on you, Pace. But if you're askin', I'd say maybe something with a bit more umph on the top, you know what I mean?"

"Oh, yeah. I love umph." He thrust his hips foward a bit, then pulled a bottle opener from a spot inside his jacket, and popped the cap off his soda. Opener returned, he took a sip and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A moment later, he smiled over at them both. "Don't let me keep you two from havin' fun." A bit of teeth showed in that smile, they rolled their shoulders back, and strut out of the room.

Delilah giggled, and kissed at King's neck. "All alone. What do you wanna do, King?"

"Oh, well, I've got more than a few things on my mind." He lifted her by the slender waist, and gently tossed her onto the bouncy heart bed.

She gave a squeal of delight, and crawled up to the top of it. "Oh, Baby! Show me everything you're thinking of!"

"If that's what you want." He felt that half-smile spread into a full one, and he followed after his playful partner.

He wasn't sure just what had him so riled up, but he couldn't help himself, even in the heat. Maybe it was the heat. Like Pacer had said, this wasn't the kind of heat that you wanted to wear clothes in.

\--~~--

There was a shout back near the entrance.

King stood, and moved towards the exit from the stage. "What on Earth is goin' on back here?"

Pacer walked in, fool tight grin plastered over his face, and one arm held up in a hand. "Just a bit of trouble with some thugs. No problems I couldn't handle."

"Goddammit Pace." But there was less anger and more concern in his voice. He stepped closer, gave a quick examination of their wound through the jacket. Lots of blood, but it seemed to have stopped at least for the moment, if the relative dryness meant anything. "And you didn't head right on over to Julie?"

"Nah. It'll be fine. I just need a few more Stimpaks and--"

"We're headed over, Pace." He caught them by the shoulder, forced them to pivot, and walked them towards the door. "She'll patch you right up, keep me from having to do it myself. I don't know how you always get into trouble."

"I guess I'm just good at that. I like trouble." His voice was a more shaky rumble than usual. Pacer leaned into King a bit more. "I'll be fine, you know. I could just take another Stimpak and be fine. Or you could patch me up, like before the Followers came."

"Yeah, like last time. How long did you hide that bullet wound before you came to me?"

"A week." They kept real close to him as they walked.

It was odd, to lead Pacer and still have them in the front, pressed so tight against him. "Anyone else, they wouldn't have so much pride to keep from going to see the Followers."

"I guess you're right." Quiet, and Pacer let out a soft little sigh.

It was a vulnerability in Pacer that so few people ever got to see, and here he was acting like it was nothing.

There must've been more blood loss than King knew. He stepped them through the Mormon Fort, and caught Julie's attention off in the distance near a back tent.

She raised a brow at Pacer's arm, and nodded towards a tent set up near the side of the fort. "Get him in there. Pacer, can you tell me what happened?"

"I got shot. What's it look like?"

"Pace. C'mon. She's trying to help, don't be a pain in the ass."

They grinned all soft and lopsided, and turned their head up, looked King right in the eyes.

He coughed, and carefully settled Pacer down on one of the chairs. "You just behave, and do what the doc asks."

"You're not leaving, are you?" Pacer kept his blues focused so intensely on him.

"Of course not. I'm here to make sure you get yourself all patched up." King watched Julie get to work. Turned out, Pacer needed his jacket and shirt off. Maybe that was for the best.

King didn't mind. For Pacer, of course. They would get him a brand spanking new(ly cleaned) Jailhouse Rocker after this, for sure. But this one was ruined, or it looked to be.

Pacer didn't seem to mind either, though he put up the bare minimum required fuss that Pacer always put up when he didn't get his way entirely. "Easy, Doc. Careful with the merchandise, right? I know you wanna see my chest but..."

"Of course. Me, and everyone else who can look in and see." She smiled though, and teased him right back.

Those two didn't always get along, but when he was in the middle, it wasn't much of a problem. King hung back a bit by the entrance to the tent anyway.

King felt a bit hot though, and tugged at the top button on his blazer, undid it. Worked down through all the others buttons too, until he had the blazer off. He draped it over the closest chair, and noted sadly that it had gotten a bit of blood on the tan material. That wouldn't be easy getting out.

But still, he felt way too hot to be outside like this. The navy blue of his shirt seemed to absorb all the desert heat, and he let out a shaky sigh and undid the top few buttons. Rolled the sleeves up. Did anything short of just straight up stripping, to relieve a bit of the heat. He even untucked the material from his pants, and flapped it for a moment to let it cool his skin just a bit.

Pacer never took his eyes off of them. There was a not at all unfamiliar intensity in those eyes, but something else too. Pacer seemed almost disappointed when King didn't continue unbuttoning.

No, that was ridiculous.

At least here among the Followers he didn't have to worry about always looking cool. They knew he was, but they also didn't exactly look to him as a leader, so they didn't seem to be as critical.

And Pacer? He was a right hand man. King could be anything, look like anything, around them.

Pacer smiled, though now it was more teeth than before. He grit pearly whites together, and glared down at Julie's head. "You know, when I got shot, I figured that would be the worst pain."

"Sure. It might have been, but this bullet broke on impact and should really come out. With your," she cast a glance over her shoulder at King, then lowered her voice, "condition, we can't afford to leave pieces in."

"He knows about my condition." Pacer leaned back in the chair, and glared up at a slight hole in the slope of the tent. His vision followed a ray of light down, and focused on where it lit up a little rock on the dirt ground. "King knows just about everything about me. Don't you, King?"

"I know just about everything one can know about you."

"And I know everything about you. Maybe even things you don't know about yourself."

There was something that dripped in that voice. Maybe it was just pain, or maybe it was just in King's head. He'd have to ask Julie to check his ears. But still, he adjusted his weight from heel to heel and focused on their face. "If anyone would know all about me, it'd be you. Though, I don't know if you know me better than I do."

Pacer shrugged, though it was almost amusing how he could only do the one side.

King stepped closer, and watched with a bit of apprehensively. "You think he'll be alright?"

"I think he's showing signs of usage of several Stimpaks. Which is fine, it just explains why he's barely reacting to this." She leaned up a bit, "And it makes it a bit more difficult to remove the pieces. I have to reopen it to get at them."

Pacer spread his legs a little, and tilted his head back. "That scalpel feels worse than the shot did."

"I'll take that into consideration. Believe me, I'm doing the least amount of damage I can, but these pieces--" She gave a soft 'aha!' and tugged out a piece of metal with tweezers, then plopped it down into a metal pan beside her. "As I was saying. I'll be done shortly. You seem to only have the one wound, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. It'd be nicer if King fixed me up. I wouldn't have had to walk all the way over in the heat."

She glanced back at King, brow raised, before she returned to her work. "I really advise against having someone who isn't a trained medical professional looking into anything more serious than simple bruising or scrapes."

"We were fine before the Followers came to town."

King almost interjected, but Julie stood too quickly, distracted him.

"I'm finished. I'll have a packet for you to take home, and I expect you to keep from getting into any more gunfights. At the bare minimum, not until this wound has healed. And," she pivoted and faced King, "I expect you to ensure he actually does take care of his injury. If he insists on not taking care of himself when faced with a doctor that's one thing. Maybe you can get through to him?"

He cast a dubious look at her, then nodded and faced Pacer.

There was a little more than a smirk on those pained lips.

It really was too damn hot in the Mojave. He wouldn't complain, not aloud. But he felt the temptation to remove at least one more layer of clothing. It was just the heat, and the anxiety his friend might not be fine.

Julie said a few things, Pacer did too, but he didn't seem to catch any of it. He just focused on those smirking lips that rose and fell and kept right on making such slick shapes.

By the time he was at the Fort's front door, and it closed shut with a solid clank behind them, he finally returned his attention to the moment. There was a canvas sack in his one hand and Pacer leaned up against him on the other side. The bag was light, but how Pacer leaned against him was heavy on his shoulder.

Pacer put one hand on their back, looped it around to the other side, and squeezed. "Can you believe she wants you playing nurse with me?"

He swallowed. Purified water, that's what he needed. For them both, clearly. "Well, you obviously need someone lookin' after you, with how you fall right into trouble every other week."

"No one better to look after me than you, right?"

He didn't look, but he could feel that smirk. He knew it well.

King kept them at a steady pace towards their building, and right up towards the third floor where Pacer could get some rest.

When they were alone in Pacer's bedroom, he insisted that King help him put on a new jacket.

"She said nothing tight on the arms for a while."

"I guess I'll have to go bare chested then." He sighed, and flopped down onto the bed, like all the energy had just about been sapped out of him.

Some skin, it looked marred by endless scars. But King knew the stories behind each dimple and plateau of flesh on their body. The one just above the left hip bone, that puckered in a bit and lined along the sharpness of their hips, was from a knife fight when they'd both been 15. Without Followers, King had been forced to patch it up himself.

That mark, just above the heart, had only complicated problems in an already weakly beating organ. That had come from a rival gang, one that had since been torn apart by the desert and spit out. Unfortunately, some of those members still existed, roamed about North and West of Freeside, in the form of Fiends.

A complex looking mark on their lightly furred navel had come from a flamer, wielded by a psychotic bastard who'd come into town thinking him and his nomad bastards could wrench it from the King's. That group hadn't lasted neither.

"I'd say take a picture, but the last camera broke when Sergio tried to take a picture of himself in the mirror. Cracked the mirror, too."

Snorting in laughter was an awful thing to do, and he preferred no one see him like this. But that got to him. "Say that to Sergio's face and he'll give you a mohawk."

"I'd still be the most handsome guy in the room. And I'd wear it better than that doc."

"You know, some people say arrogance is a bad look." He crossed his arms, but kept his smile light.

"Do they? Guess they never met me. I look good in anything."

"Uh huh."

"You think I look good, right?"

He shifted his weight a bit more on the left side, and leaned into the doorway. He regarded Pacer from across the room, gave them a bit of a sideways look. "You do."

They slowly pulled a thin sheet up over their legs, up past the low ride of jeans, and finally towards his shoulders. "Well. Turn the light out when you go, won't you? Doctor's orders said I should get some rest."

He did as asked. And he even shut the door behind him. A moment later, he slumped back against it, and tried to fully collect himself. It was just the med-x. The Stimpaks. It was just the drugs, making Pacer act more fool than usual.

Satisfied, he worked his way over to his room. He took care of a physical problem of his own with Delilah and the brunette he unfortunately kept forgetting the name of.

Not that Delilah or the other one seemed to mind. So long as he called them Baby, they called him a King. And worshiped him, just how he loved it best.

\--~~--

Pacer glanced up towards the King from his spot all splayed out reading a magazine on the bed.

"Comfortable?"

"Oh, you have no idea. Well, maybe you do." Pacer rolled over onto his belly, and leaned up on his elbows to watched the King advance across the wooden floor.

"I should hope I do, seein' as how that's my bed and everythin'." King chuckled and shook his head. "I leave for an hour, and what do I find?"

"Doc said I needed to relax and not go out looking for trouble. Lucky you, that means I'm staying up here until I'm healed up."

"Lucky me." And if his voice was maybe a bit flat, if he raised a brow at their words, who could blame him? "Pace. It's not that I mind you there."

"Yes, King?"

"But you're a bit wet. Soaking my sheets."

"Julie told me to wash up a bit. Said something about sweat and germs. Who knows what nonsense them Follower doctors think about. You... wanted me following the doctor's orders, right?"

This was a trick. Somewhere in here, he'd been trapped. "Sure. But did you need to lay half naked and wet on my bed, in particular?"

An easy grin, and Pacer rolled just that one uninjured shoulder back again, in a soft little shrug. "My bed got too hot. Your room is so much cooler. Plus, the bed's so nice." He scooted just a bit, and pat the spot beside him. "You could come sit. Found a pretty good magazine downstairs in a dusty ol' box."

Just like old times. Once, they'd even headed as far East as Lake Mead. Just the two of them, and a couple of 9mms between them in case they ran into trouble. They'd had a nice firepit in the evening sun. There was water in their hair, and beaded on their skin. Together, they'd taken down a few lakelurks and had a damn delicious feast.

He stepped closer, and finally settled next to them on the bed. "What's the magazine?"

"Something about old cars or something. Some of it was waterlogged, but there's some good stuff in here." He peeled back a semi-glossy page, and let it fall. "See? Lookit these cars here. Can you imagine getting behind the wheel of a beaut like that? Wind in your hair, nothing but a long stretch of highway to think about."

"It's a whole 'nother world we live in. Weird to imagine sometimes."

"Don't I know it." Pacer cupped his head in one hand, and slowly played his fingers along his jawbone. Idly, he stroked along the pulse at his neck. The other hand made its business just occasionally turning the pages. "That one's a real good one. Any guy could have dozens of girls hanging on them with this one."

He blinked. Oh, right. Eyes focused on the slightly blurred photos in what was once a crisp magazine. "Definitely. Even you."

Pacer snorted, and leaned over to shove at him with his good shoulder. "Whatever. I could get anyone I wanted now."

"I don't see a whole lot of girls coming up here for you."

Pacer's fingers twitched on the edge of the page, and tore it up a little when he went to turn it. "Just because I'm more discrete than having a bunch of girls hanging on me all the time, doesn't mean I couldn't have someone doing that."

"Uh huh."

Pacer slapped the magazine shut, and rolled over onto his back.

Uh oh. King tilted his head a bit and watched for the telltale sign Pacer had gotten real cross. To his own surprise though, Pacer just smirked. "Something funny?"

"Yeah. But you wouldn't get it." He twisted a bit in the bed, and swung his legs out over the angled edge. "I've got to go get dressed. Wanna play a bit of blackjack later?"

"That depends, who's dealer this time?"

"We could both do it."

"Alright. But no more trying to mark the deck. Had to get a whole new one this time."

Pacer laughed and nodded, then waved his good arm without looking back at the King, and strode out.

He only watched them leave to make sure they were alright. Wounds, and all that. And they looked good. Healed, that is. That towel fit just fine along their body, really clung to the skin.

King reached for some bottled water beside the bed and downed most of it in a few long sips. The last little bit, he poured out into his hand and wiped along his face.

He'd be all in order by the time Pacer dressed and returned. Though, maybe he should wear something a bit more casual, a bit less tight.

It was rare he truly didn't know just what the Hell was going on, but he'd been at a loss for over a week. Things had kicked into high gear, like there was something going on with Pacer.

Maybe Pacer'd found a new drug or something. He might talk to Julie about that, make sure there wasn't anything wrong with his pal, more than he already knew was.

Blackjack. First time they'd played it, they'd been nothing more two dumb young men who'd been looking for something to do in between struggling to survive. They'd found a pack of cards, and learned how to play from a yellowed piece of paper inside that let them in on it.

Not long after that, the Atomic Wrangler had opened, and given them an outlet to talk with people in a relatively safe place. They could have fun and just feel free.

God, how long ago had that been? And how long since they'd taken over the mess that was the King School of Impersonation and turned it into something to be proud of? Nearly a decade. He was losing count of the time. Was that what it was like, when you crawled on up in years?

He shuffled the cards, and set them out on the table.

Nearly as soon as he did it, Pacer walked in carrying a single bag in his good arm. Nothing but a pair of tight jeans and a thin white tee adorned his frame. He grinned, and angled himself into the chair across from the King. "Miss me?"

"Who wouldn't, with your eternally smiling face to look forward to."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." They kicked back, and put their leg up on the table.

He felt an incredulous look spread over his features, and didn't bite that back.

They offered an easy smile over and ran a comb through their hair. Tiny beads of water arced away from the thick black hair. It really did look nice, Sergio had done a great job. "You're staring. Problem?"

"You're really somethin' lately. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh."

"No, really." Leg flopped back down to the ground, and they leaned in. Eyes locked with his. "Nothing at all has gotten in me."

King felt a stirring, a slight curious discomfort. He played it cool though, and just arched a brow.

"Hey, where're the girls?"

"Off downstairs watchin' one of the boys singin' and carryin' on."

"Think they'll be back soon?"

He looked to the window, took note that there wasn't a whole lot of outside light coming in anymore. "Should be, sure. Why the interest?"

"Maybe we could make this game more interesting." Pacer stretched out, arms locked above his head.

"I almost don't wanna know."

"Well, fine, if you don't wanna spice things up with the girls, I won't push it."

Uh huh. Pacer, King of maintaining boundaries and doing what he was told.

King nearly bit at his bottom lip, though he held back. He had a look to maintain, after all, and he'd been a bit more lax in that lately. But spicing things up could be fun. Especially if Pacer was there to assist.

The thought struck him, and he struck it back and away. "Like how?"

"Like. You, me. The girls. We play a card game. Winner of a round keeps on all clothes they're wearing, loser loses a piece."

Stripping to a game. It was far from the first time they'd done that, but this felt a bit different. King settled back in his own chair, and glanced down at the bag Pacer had brought. He nodded towards it, crooked his head in its direction. "What's in the bag?"

"Just a bit of beer I managed to rustle up. Figure, what better way to relax than kickin' back, playin' some cards, and seein' some beautiful people wearin' far less than they otherwise would?"

King swallowed, and put a hand out, asking silently for a beer. Ask, and it was received, just as wordlessly. Beer opened on the edge of the table, he took his first sip before he finally replied. "Well. If the girls don't go for it, then I won't push them. But, if I know Delilah, she'd have a great time."

"Cool, then we could just play blackjack until they get back up. Shouldn't take too long."

He wasn't an impatient sort. He wasn't Pacer. But here, they seemed to have somehow switched roles. He wanted the girls to hurry on up, and Pacer seemed as casual as a man reading a pristine magazine.

He accepted though, after another few sips of beer. "Well, looks like you're dealer then."

"Fine by me. So, you want a fancy lad?"

He did not choke on his beer. He most definitely did not. He sipped it calmly, and he swallowed it calmly too. It was obvious enough what Pacer was offering.

Hell, even if it was meant to be innuendo, it did a bad job at it. Pacer wasn't fancy by any means...

"Well? Big delight in every bite." Pacer held up one of the snack cakes, apparently fished up from his bag.

"I could go for that, yeah."

Pacer reached his arm out, and twisted it so his palm was down over King's extended one. They held that for just a moment, before Pacer slowly released the cake and put his hands back into the bag to get his own cake. Like that feeling hadn't been electric.

King ate his at a reasonable pace.

But there Pacer was, licking at the outside, pressing down in slow bites, lapping at some cream filling that spilled out in slow loops.

It was just frankly obscene.

King tapped fingers against the table, and glanced back to that deck of cards, just exactly in the middle between them. He reached out, and began to reshuffle it. "Maybe I should deal."

"If you want to." They licked at their fingers. Long, slow licks, from first where finger met palm, on up to neatly pared nail.

If it meant he didn't keep staring at that display, yeah. He'd deal. He finished up pressing the cards in together, finished with a quick shuffle. A moment later, he tossed the cards out with a practiced ease.

He was glad when the girls clacked on in with their low heels and flowing dresses. It kept him from watching Pacer pulling at his shirt collar, like it was just too hot.

"Heya, King." Delilah draped herself over his shoulders, and pressed one cheek to his. "You want some time alone with him, or?"

"No! Uh, no, no worries Babygirl. In fact, Pace here and I were talkin'. How would you two like to play a few rounds with us?"

"Oh? What kinda game, King?" She hung about him like she was just a wee bit tipsy. Beer clung to her breath. "I love playing games with you."

Pacer didn't even bother to keep from smirking. He didn't keep that breathy chuckle at bay either.

"Know anythin' 'bout poker, Darlin?"

She kissed his cheek, and sauntered over to a chair beside Pacer and the King. "Boy, what don't I know? Me and Charlene'll wipe the floor with you boys." And while she said it, she carefully ran the blunt of her heel along his ankle, and kept sultry eye contact that entire time.

"Strip poker." Pacer said, when Charlene took a seat too. "Unless you're all too scared."

Charlene giggled, and made soft eyes in Pacer's direction. "I'm not scared. I love a bit of excitement!"

Charlene was a goddamn shark. With her soft bubbly laugh, and the way she'd flirt, King never would have guessed she could run a game of poker with the best of them.

She stretched in her seat and glanced over at Pacer. "Ooh, looks like you lose again. I'm sorry, maybe next round will go better for you?"

He glanced between her, and King, and then back to her. "It's a good thing you're so pretty, or I might not like you yappin' those lips like that at me."

She leaned in and shook her breasts just a bit from within the confines of her bra. Her blouse was the only thing she'd removed yet, and it swum in a sea of other peoples clothing on the wooden floor. "Oh, don't be such a sore loser. Maybe later you can win a little?" She looked to King and winked. "Maybe you both can?"

Normally, he might not be the sort to share. But this was Pace. He couldn't help but get a bit riled at the thought, in a good way. But he'd lost. So, shoes off it was, to match Pacer's pants and Delilah's skirt.

Damn though, but that thought clung, didn't it? He finally let out a low drawl, "Sure, Baby. If it works out that way."

It didn't though. Halfway in, just as Pacer might've gotten his thin boxer briefs off, he stood and stretched. "It's been fun, but Julie says I need all the rest I can get."

Uh huh.

When Pacer left, and that door shut behind him, he all but grabbed Delilah up onto his lap. She squealed with laughter, and he kissed hard at her neck, shoulders, cheeks, and on her lips.

Charlene, was it? Seemed content to just slowly strip herself down to just her panties that clung to shapely hips. She just watched.

Halfway into finishing up with Delilah in the middle of the bed, Charlene seemed content to come crawl up beside him and edge them both along.

Fitting, seeing as how her incessant flirting during the game had lead to the same feelings of need. But it wasn't focused on her here. And it hadn't been focused on either of the girls during the game.

Oh.

Oh, yeah. He sighed his release into Delilah, and shortly after they'd had their fun, they all cuddled up and found sleep.

But that didn't keep the realization from twisting inside his dreams. That deep, intense voice. Hands on the King's shoulders in such a friendly way, pushing and rubbing like he'd done for years. Whispers at his neck. Kisses.

He woke up alone. Delilah and that other had apparently slipped out in the middle of it all. Their clothes were gone.

Only his remained on the floor. But no, that wasn't the case. Pacer's were there, right beside the King's, where they'd been left.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and held them aloft. Morning light filtered in through the ragged curtains, and he couldn't keep from smiling.

Oh darn, he'd have to return these. And wouldn't that just be something if he padded over there in nothing but his own briefs? It wouldn't be unlike how Pacer had left wearing nothing more than his.

Besides, if Pacer wanted to play this game, and it clearly was a game, then he was ready. But never let it be said that the King lost games without putting his all in.

He knocked once at the door, then pushed it on in and stepped forward.

There Pacer lay, bare as the day he was born, with nothing but a bandage on his arm, and a sheet wrapped around his leg. He always was a squirrely sleeper, so it was likely he'd gotten it tangled there in the night.

It was, being honest here, a lovely sight. He considered just leaving the clothes and going. He denied that urge. Instead, he stepped forward calmly and called out in a soft little voice, "Hey, Pace? You left your clothes. Thought to return 'em to you."

Pacer peeked an eye open, though it was a bit bleary. "Time is it?"

"Oh, just mornin'. Don't worry about that." He sat down beside Pacer and casually didn't look at them and their nude form. "You left last night before I could thank you for bringing the beer and snacks. Girls and I had a blast." He settled their white tee and jeans on down between the two of them. "And we had an even better time after." A low rolling chuckle, and he couldn't help but feel a jolt of pleasure at how Pacer reacted.

That wasn't your typical, oh, good for you, glad I could be your wing. No, that was a set of narrowed blue eyes and pursed lips.

Pacer rolled onto his back and stretched, covered with a yawn. "Still. Bit early. They must not have worn you out too much."

"No, they energized me." Another chuckle. He wasn't one to talk about the girls often, even if some of the other Kings would have liked it. But this was a special occasion. If Pacer wanted to play dirty, who was he to keep his own tactics above the table?

Pacer sighed, and pulled the shirt on. "Well, I guess I'm up now."

"Guess you are. Hey, what say you, me, and Rexie go on a walk? That there doctor, Julie, said she'd like to see you again today. We could get there bright and early."

"Can't wait." They buried themselves under their pillow, ass raised just a bit in the air.

Well, didn't that just raise the King's mood a whole Helluva lot? He grinned, whistled a cheerful tune he'd heard on one of those old worn holotapes, and left Pacer by his lonesome.

Pacer would come back with a vengeance, if this game kept to the rules he was quickly figuring.

He looked forward to it. He wouldn't break first, that'd be his favorite boy. His best friend. Pacer.


	2. Pacer's POV

Pacer growled into the pillow. It wasn't he didn't want King around. It was, he didn't want anyone coming around in the middle of the goddamn morning and telling him he had to go on a walk. Go see some stuck up doctor lady that told him off for all the fights he got into.

But fine. He'd pick himself up, wash the sleep from his face, get some clothes on, and make his hair even more perfect. He wouldn't rush it though. He was on his own schedule. It just so happened to nearly align with the schedule King wanted him on that morning.

Casually, he swung himself out of bed.

And if he kept himself interested in the boring motions of the day with thoughts of the King strutting in like it was no big deal he was in his underthings, hey. Who could be mad?

More than that, if he got a bit of a thrill that they'd caught him with nothing but a sweaty sheet around his ankle, then what was the problem there?

The only problem really lay in the whole, going to see Julie again. But at least he'd probably get some time with King, all to himself, afterwards.

He flicked his comb through greased up hair and felt through it with the other hand, to make sure it firmly held the shape he wanted.

Pacer ambled on over towards King's bedroom when he knew he looked as good as could be. He angled on into the doorway, and peeked in at the King himself.

Guy bent over, all lean roped muscles and pretty flesh. Big hands picked up a belt, and through the loops of his rings he pulled the leather. King tilted his head a bit, and regarded Pacer casually. "You're ready then? Good. Just about through dressin' myself."

"Not wearin' that suit a yours?"

"Nah. Figure, it's good to wear just plain old jeans some days. These ones sure are fitting tighter though lately." He reached back and lifted at his ass just a bit.

It was just a casual comment. Something you said with your best friend. Pacer laughed. "Getting fatter, or are you working out lately?"

King turned around and offered a somewhat sleepy grin. "Well, little bit of both, maybe. Age doesn't give a damn who you are, does it?" He stepped forward, feet padding along the floor, until he was just before Pacer.

Still, getting older or not, he was muscular. Not extremely so, but in a quiet subtle sort of way. One that said, I don't need a gun to pull you down a peg or two.

Pacer stepped closer, until he could smell that cologne. It wasn't thick, wasn't heavy, like some of the others who wore it to cover up something bad. It was just enough to compliment what was already there.

"And I should pick up some more ammo from Mick & Ralph's I think. Wanna come along with me on that?"

"What am I, your errand boy?"

An arched brow, and a thin smirk on those lips, before King turned. Shoulders shrugged and he stepped towards his white shirt. "You're a King, same as any of us. If you don't wanna..."

"It's fine. I could go for a walk. Stayin' outta trouble's harder than it looks. Definitely, it's boring."

King chuckled, and it was a low rumble that brought low feelings right to Pacer's body.

A twinkle showed in those blue eyes, and King's smile showed just a bit of white teeth. "You, havin' a hard time stayin' clean? I never woulda believed it."

"Uh huh." He chuckled himself though, and turned before he let his face relax a bit. His good arm raised a bit, and he gave a lazy wave. "I'll meetcha downstairs."

"Seeya."

He returned to his room first. Rubbed just the barest bit of water across his face. Breathed in deep. He'd been drunk last night, so he didn't remember just exactly what all had gone down. But he definitely knew seeing them all powerful and half-dressed while Pacer was sober was much nicer.

It'd been a lot easier taking peeks at King when they'd shared a space like some of the boys still did. Not that he was disappointed to have his own room, but you couldn't so easily sneak peeks at your roommate when he wasn't your roommate anymore. Go figure.

That'd been too frustrating lately. It all started to spill out into everything else.

But that didn't matter, it was fine. Pacer reaffixed a strand of hair that needed attention, and headed back on out the door. He took the steps slow, really let himself de-stress before he made it all the way to the front corner of the building.

Cool, calm, collected, he leaned against one of the broken freezers. Pacer easily lifted himself up onto the edge of it, and posed just about as subtly yet tantalizingly as he could manage. By the time the King finally made it downstairs, his one leg felt a bit fuzzy, but he ignored it. Casual like, he hopped down onto his booted feet, and strut over. "Took your sweet time."

"It takes time to look good." They offered that same smile that he'd first seen when they were teens. Mischievous, sincere, and just a little bit seductive.

Maybe Pacer was the only one around that saw it that way though. The others just said their hellos and seemed to think nothing of it.

Pacer went and pressed himself against their one arm. "You're not going to make me walk hand in hand with you on into that Fort, are you? You damn near dragged me home by the arm last time."

"I don't know, Pace. Do you want me to?" They lifted their arm a bit, as though they were ready.

That. That wasn't the bit. He made a slightly obnoxious statement, King deflected like a mirror against the sunlight. This was how that worked.

Pacer grinned though, "Oh, sure. If you really want to." They'd fall back. They always did.

King's smile shifted just a smidgen. King took them, arm in arm, and started towards the door. As though it wasn't a thing. As though it was normal.

Pacer didn't blush. But sometimes the heat got to him. He coughed. "Hey, what about Rex? We still takin' him?"

"Oh, that's right. I'll go get him if you don't mind stayin' here."

He did not sigh relief. Pacer would have been fine walking with linked arms. But if Rex was around and needed King to pay attention to him instead while they were out in public, Pacer wouldn't complain.

Though, the idea was appealing. A bit. Maybe. Not in public though, that was a bit much. The important thing was Pacer hadn't caved and made them both look ridiculous.

The walk over was nice. King didn't fill things with unending meaningless chatter. He said just exactly what needed to be said, and he made it sound great.

King had always been the one who could talk their way out of things. Pacer could never get his tongue to work the right way when he wanted something solved. Usually, that meant Pacer had to talk with fists or a bullet.

Julie didn't harass him too much.

"I'm surprised. This looks like it's healed very well." She looked to the King. "You've kept on him about making sure to take care of it?"

Pacer snorted, crossed his arms. "It ain't like he's my partner or anything. I took care of it all on my lonesome. I'm not a child."

Well that got an interesting look out of her long face. But she ironed the wrinkled expression out a moment later, and smiled over at him. "Of course. I guess I didn't think of that because last time you said I was an 'idiot' 'quack' that 'knows nothing about nothing'. I figured you might let that keep you from helping yourself."

King sighed. "Pace."

That little twist of displeasure. Nothing big, but he huffed anyway. "Well. I still took care of it all."

She tilted her head in that way she always did in front of him. "Well, good. I'd sign off. With the way you've taken care of it, and how the Stimpaks seem to have worked very well, this should be little more than a scar and occasional discomfort. I hope we don't need to see you in here for the same reason anytime soon."

See, this? This was why he hated the doctors. Sure, sure, the other Kings loved them for providing free or mostly free healthcare. And it saved lives, he wouldn't deny it. But for some reason none of the other doctors would even come near him. It always had to be Julie.

And she didn't give him a single inch of slack.

King held their hand at Pacer's lower back and rubbed on. Like it was nothing, King lead him out the door like that. "Well, hey that's good news though. 'S'long as you can keep outta trouble, you shouldn't need to go back in there until your next checkup."

"She's so irritating." And that's what he'd focus on. Her. Not the hand that ever so teasingly rubbed against his spine and made him feel all sorts of tight in the pants.

"And here, you went on and on 'bout Julie says this and Julie says that on caring for that wound. Thought you and her must've been damn near closer than two people could be."

Only to get a rile out of them. But, going by the casual way they said it, apparently it hadn't worked. He shrugged, both arms now, and replied. "Nah. I just figured, I didn't want you all upset like last time."

"Is that all it takes to make you behave? Knowin' it might rile me up?"

"I don't know, depends on how I'm rilin' you. And what 'behaving' means."

Well, the rumble of a laugh that rolled out of those pretty lips did more to his crotch than even the hand at his back did. He broke contact with them for a moment, "You know, I just remembered I told Mitch I'd help him with somethin'. I'll catch up with you back home."

King waved him off, and smiled down at the happy barks Rex gave.

He didn't run. He didn't need to run. But if his steps were a bit faster than was strictly necessary, it was just because he was a busy guy.

\--~~--

"So, did you get all that taken care of with Mitch?" King leaned against the doorway. A thin silky looking navy robe hung just low enough to show all that thick dark hair Pacer loved to see.

"Mitch?" He flipped a page through one of the books he'd found recently. Something about pre-War geography, from what non-burned pages still existed.

"Mitch. You know, 5'8", dark skin, real lanky legged. Our Mitch?"

"I." He laughed, and shook his head, "I know who. Me and him had no business. He's probably at the Wrangler with his girl though, if you want'm."

"And here I thought you and him had a hot date, with the way you ran off after we left the Fort."

There was something to that look on King's handsome face. Pacer ran a palm over his hair, made sure it was nice and right. "Must've misheard."

"Uh huh."

"Uh huh." Pacer grinned, let the smile ease over his tense face. "How come you're askin' after him?"

"Oh, just wanted to make sure everythin' was fine. The way you moved, looked like you had a fire under your seat."

Pacer adjusted until he sat upright on the bed. "Oh, come on. It's not like I ran."

"Oh? You were the one watchin' yourself?"

"You're gettin' so old, maybe you just need some glasses. I'm sure your favorite doctor, Julie, could fix your peepers right up."

That got a laugh, and King shut the door behind him. "If someone heard you, carryin' on like that." King shook his head. Heavy steps of bare feet sounded over the wooden floors.

He didn't squirm. He just arched back a bit, showed off his own entirely bare chest. "What if someone heard me?"

It wasn't like he'd planned for this and had his shirt off that entire time after returning home or anything. That would be ridiculous. It was just hot, that was all.

With the way the robe just kept on threatening to open, just enough to give a real nice peek, Pacer couldn't help but feel the temperature keep on rising.

King seemed to look more intently at him than usual. Eyes focused, lips drew in a line. Then there was a smile. "I'm only a month older than you. You know it. I know it. But with all these jokes lately, I wonder what's goin' on up in that noggin a yours?"

He pulled the book over his lap, and flipped through to a more legible page. "Delilah's been right. Some books ain't half bad. Still not normally my thing, but when there's not a whole lot goin' on, it's not terrible."

The bed indented a bit, right where King sat so close. "Yeah? I'll tell her that when she gets back. Her and uh, Charlene? Yeah, they headed on over to the Wrangler. Apparently, place got a few new holo-tapes in, and they got some dancin' shoes to wear on in."

"I'm surprised you didn't go. You like that stuff."

"Well. Thought I'd ask you if you were up for it. Of course, I'd understand if you didn't feel up to--"

"I'm in."

"Great. I'll get some clothes on, meet you downstairs in an hour."

An hour alone. An hour to get rid of the problem rising under his book. Pacer nodded, and angled his head a bit towards the door. "Mind shuttin' it on the way out? I wouldn't want anyone else seein' me strippin' down."

"No, wouldn't want that." King already faced the door, and stepped slowly to it. "Seeya soon, Pace."

So maybe he was taking everything the wrong way. Maybe. But he was fairly certain those words were just a bit laced with intent. Intent to something.

He almost reached for the cigarette box beneath his bed. No. King would be in close contact real soon, he'd smell it. Every King was free to do what they wanted, but that didn't mean he had to take Jet.

It would be fine.

Pacer tossed the book away. It hadn't been all that good of a read anyway. Besides. He had a leaning tower of Pacer bent all under his jeans, and he needed to tend to it.

Having been given such eye candy to enjoy just minutes before, he shot off quick enough. Satisfied, he set about making himself look sharp. But not in a way that seemed fussy. It was about looking good and effortless, even if it took you a half hour.

It wasn't easy being a King. Not everyone could be one. But he enjoyed it, even for all the work.

Especially when he got to be right up close to his best friend. His King.

With a final touch up on his hair, he sighed, untucked his tee just a bit over one hipbone, and headed towards the stairs.

\--~~--

The music was a nice backdrop. Something to listen to if you wanted to dance, or sing along should you know the words like literally everyone in the Wastes. But not something that wrapped around your head and squeezed, keeping you from listening to anything else.

As it was, he didn't dance a whole Helluva lot. It wasn't that he couldn't. It was that he liked watching. He enjoyed looking at the girls around that picked and pulled at boys, insisted that they join up on the dance floor.

With Hadrian not having an act just then, you were even welcome to get up on the stage and dance. If you wanted to make a damn fool of yourself.

That one, that 'Charlene' or whatever her name was, pressed her breasts up against his, and tried to pull him from his seat.

Pacer wasn't easy to get out of the chair, but he didn't outright fight her. He sighed, and stood finally when they gave him just the saddest damn pout a pair of lips that soft had any right to do. "C'mon. Don't you want to show off in front of the King?"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Oh. I don't know." She caught him by the hand and lead backwards towards the dancing crowd that shifted and undulated. "I just figured you might like to have a bit of friendly competition. Since you two seem to turn everything into that. And with him and Delilah blazing up the floor..."

He matched their playful grin, and stepped closer. "Yeah? Well, you better bring what I need to the table to make us win."

"Why, you don't know how to dance and you need me to hold you?"

He tugged her in tight, then spun her around and caught her back in a hold. "No. I just don't want you holding me back." And maybe he inhaled at her neck, caught up a bit of that scent.

Just because he had more than a little thing for the King, didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a beautiful woman.

He hadn't been sure about this, but the more he danced, the more the King started to let his eyes wander on over.

Pace ignored it. He didn't notice how those jeans clung just right on King's thighs, and elongated his legs. He didn't picture how King held Delilah so very close and what that might be like if he got that intensity in a touch.

Instead, he lifted, spun, and pulled Charlene in close enough they could feel each others heartbeats. And every time he did, he could feel eyes on them. Not just other Kings, no. The King.

It was a heady feeling. On a dip and swing, he gave her a kiss, right there on the lips. Nothing too hot, though he still felt like he might turn to smoke.

She wrapped one leg about him, and brought herself in closer. Eyes focused up on his. "You know, normally I might object to being used..."

"What now?"

"You know. I have eyes. So does he. And he's not been looking at me, well, not as much as I'd prefer."

He raised his brow. "Is he lookin' now?"

"Uh huh." She tilted her chin back, and ran those delicate little fingers on down his arms. Goosebumps rose, despite the warmth. "Wanna make him more jealous?"

"What've you got in mind, you naughty little thing?"

She leaned in, and whispered right at the coil of his ear. Her breath was hot, and it just kept on heating him up.

"Are you from Gomorrah or somethin'? 'Cause I don't know I've ever heard somethin' so bad."

"Is that a no?"

"It's a Hell yeah. Though," He glanced over at the King, and grinned.

"Yes?" She draped herself over him a bit more, arms at his arms, chest pressed against his.

"Maybe we should go now." He turned back towards her, and lead her on towards the door. A bit before it, he paused, gently nudged them forward, and turned back towards the King. "I'm just gonna take care of something."

"Hurry back, Lover boy."

Pacer settled in behind the King. Hands worked at the King's shoulders and he leaned in, "Heya. Thinkin' me and that sweet thing Charlene might skedaddle."

King's expression was usually so easy for him to read, but this time it was calmly impassive. He finally pulled out a nice quiet smile and glanced up at Pacer. "Mmhmm. Alright. You two have some fun."

"That's not a," he tapped his fingers on the thin fabric that nestled those big broad shoulders, "problem, is it?"

"Problem? Now why might it be a problem?"

"Well, if you'd rather I didn't--"

King turned in his chair. "Pace, if it were any other fool in this place I might raise a brow. But I want you happy. And if you enjoy playin' with that there Miss Charlene, and she enjoys it, why would I be upset?"

Funny, though. He didn't exactly want to go play. Well, that was a lie, he'd love to. She was clever and naughty and she had a damn good pair of legs. He would play. Oh, Hell fucking yes he would. But he had someone he'd prefer to play with over Miss Charlene.

He nodded and tapped them on the shoulder, before he headed on back towards that exit where she waited.

Charlene arched a brow, and those ruby lips pulled into a slight smirk. "Something gone wrong, Sugar?"

"No way. Just had to take care of somethin'." One arm wrapped about her waist, and the other opened the door. On the way out, he offered one last look back, and felt a bit of a thrill to see the look in the King's eyes.

King clearly couldn't wipe that look away in time. Needy. Sexual. Oh, that was the look of a sex starved man. Pacer knew, he'd seen that look more than once in the mirror lately. But it was fine. Because it just confirmed what had been running around in his brain all the last few days.

If King wasn't sex starved, and he looked at Pacer and Charlene like that anyway, and he already had a thing with Charlene so it couldn't be about her...

He chuckled a bit to himself, and squeezed her closer.

She bumped hips real suggestively with him, and pressed a kiss up against his neck. "So, now that you took care of that," she pulled her voice down real low, conspiratorially, "how about we take care of this, hmm?" She squeezed at his front, and rubbed soft fingers against the smooth aged denim. "Because, Sugar, I think you really could use a bit of satisfaction."

Not that he'd never done it in the open, but that wasn't a tonight feeling. He nipped at her earlobe, and lead her on back towards their home. The best goddamn school in the world. "C'mon, Baby. I got a much better place to get on with you at."

"You know how to treat a girl, don'tcha, Honey?"

That felt a bit less playful, and slightly more pointed. That was fine though, he liked a bit of spice and a bit a kick in his ladies. "Oh, you better damn well believe it. Let's go." A bite slightly lower, at the point where neck met jaw. Then, a gentle kiss and a suck. "Before I eat you right up."

There was that giggle again. Almost bubbly, despite all the attitude she had buried underneath. He liked it. Layers, that was good.

Of course, getting layers off of her, that was better.

She pulled from his grip, turned around, and shook her hips and higher a bit, before she started off at a run. Her heels clacked against the old asphalt, but didn't seem to slow her down.

It was a bit silly, plainly so. But he got caught up in the moment, and darted after her. Easy enough, he caught her by the waist and all but carried her giggling form back to the school.

It was a very good night, even if substitutions had to be made.

Pacer woke up feeling damn near as exhausted as he'd ever been. There was no indent in his old bed where Charlene would have been, so he figured she'd left a long while before he'd woken. Damn. He'd hoped for a bit of mid-morning nooky. Still, being alone when he woke wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Waking up with no clothes on was fine too. Even not seeing clothes he'd recalled shedding to the ground was fine.

Pacer tugged hard at the creaky dresser door and forced it on open. No. No, she hadn't been fool enough to take his clothes, had she?

He tugged open a drawer, though it screamed with the force, apparently misaligned on the slider. He nearly screamed when he saw how empty it was.

Goddamn Charlene, she really was the devil in a sweet sultry disguise, wasn't she? He returned to his bed, and wrapped a sheet about his waist. He was about the same size as the King. He'd just go borrow some of those clothes.

Never mind there was a whole room full of clothes no one had taken for themselves yet. It was also closer to the stairs, and he wasn't about to have anyone see him like this.

He rapped sharply once at the King's door, then pressed on in. "King? You up?"

King lay so languid over that bed. Alone, he seemed content to sleep within the middle of the bed. Even Rex seemed to have vacated the room.

Pacer stepped forward. "King?"

No response, just a soft inhale, and a roll of those hips until he lay so peaceful on his side.

Pacer crept forward and managed to find himself at their own dresser. He'd explain it later.

The drawer creaked, just a bit, not nearly as bad as the one in Pacer's room.

Bedding shifted, and weight seemed to readjust on the mattress.

Pacer glanced over and sighed.

King grinned. "You know, I remember when we'd go through ladies dressers, but I thought we outgrew that when we were, what, 13?"

Pacer let out a tense chuckle, though it slowly eased back a bit. "Hey, it's nothing personal. You weren't up and I needed to get somethin' to wear."

"Your own clothes up and shrink on you?"

"No, Charlene up and snagged them."

Well, that was a somewhat vicious look in those amused eyes. King stretched and yawned, but it didn't cover well enough. "I'm sure she doesn't plan to keep them. Delilah said she'd take some a my clothes and wash 'em up real nice. Maybe that's all she's doing?"

Pacer glanced down to the dresser drawer. It made sense. There wasn't all that much left that was clean. Must've been the other things had already been taken.

King slowly stepped onto the floor. Casual like, he walked on over and put a hand just above the sheet that clad Pacer. "You know, if you really wanna you can borrow some a mine. Otherwise, we could just wait around until the girls come back with our things. Might take a while though, you know how it goes."

"I'm in no rush." He relaxed against that touch. "We could play some pool."

"Sounds good enough to me." King stepped away and went to retrieve some pool cues.

Pacer managed a peek, and couldn't hide the little grin that spread out along his lips. King, bare as the day he was born, walked like he didn't even notice what that might do to Pacer.

No one could be that ignorant, and he knew damn well King wasn't.

Still, if pretending everything was fine was the game, he'd play. He'd win.

He angled over the table and began to adjust some of the balls into the triangle. He kept his eyes on the task, and not on their eyes and how they seemed to take note of his every position.

Pacer contemplated letting the sheet fall and just not retrieving it. But the sheet kept him slightly safer in the game. It gave him an edge. When King brought him up, and he most assuredly would, Pacer could hide it behind layers of draping sheets.

At least, that was the thought.

When he finished with the triangle, he felt that warm hand on his shoulder. He held in his spot for a moment, before he glanced back and looked up into their face.

"Here's your stick. Chalked it up and everything. Wanna go first?"

He took the stick silently, and just nodded.

King's cock was right there, just, less than a foot away.

Pacer coughed, and stood upright, shook the anxiety out of his limbs before he found a spot just slightly to the left and leaned over to aim a shot.

King pressed his hip right up against Pacer's. "Oh, that's a good shot."

He didn't make the shot. Those words, that presence pressed so tight, he couldn't focus. Pacer biffed it. He turned about, tried to look them in the face. Instead, he looked right on down at their lower half. About a half second later he felt a bit too hot and returned his look up higher. Right up towards amused blue eyes. "I'd have made it if you didn't try and distract me."

"Did I distract you? I'm hardly movin' a muscle here." He even put his hand up, all innocent like, to his heart. "I'll be better, I swear."

That was so over the top he couldn't help but laugh. Whatever. He stepped away from the table. And whoops, he pulled his own sheet right off, gave them a sight of his ass all nice and pert while he bent down to pull the sheet back up.

Take that, cheater.

King ground his hips right up against that railing, leaned real far into the shot. On an exhale, he slapped that stick into the ball, and sent several others clacking around the table. One even went in.

Pacer was less concerned about the ball that made it in than he was on the way King bent over.

Quickly, he wrapped that sheet about him. There was no way he could keep himself in the running if he didn't have something to hide how he was actually starting to lose.

King seemed to ignore Pacer. He clung to the edges of the table and worked his way around it until he found a good spot. Like it was nothing, he took shot after shot. "Looks like I'm not half bad at this game in the morning. Must be I'm better in the mornin'."

"Must be." They were just right exactly in front of him.

Pacer clenched and unclenched his fingers around the stick. It was fine. This was fine. Even if he got a bit stiff here, he knew the King had on more than a few occasions lately. Pacer was still in the lead, he was still winning.

King sighed, and wiped a hand over his forehead. "Sure is hot in here. Hope them girls and the boys what went with them don't overheat out there. I don't think I'd be able to wear clothes today."

Nope. Nope. He didn't look when King turned around and faced him, head on. His cock raised, just a bit, one eye apparently wanting to see more.

He just took his own cue, moved to the most promising spot, conveniently across the table, and let the balls fly. One even sunk into a middle pocket, and he grinned up. "You might be ahead, but I'll catch up."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that."

Pacer aimed up, took another shot. A second before cue would hit ball, King stretched and yawned.

Damn him. Damn him, using Pacer's own tactics against him. He huffed, and stepped back from the railing. "Well, go on then. See if you can do better."

"Better than a miss? I should hope so." King was so casual about his every move. He smoothly transitioned from a stretch, right into being laid up over the table. They took their deep inhale, and began to snap the stick forward on the exhale.

Pacer pressed up behind him, leaned in, and whispered right at their ear. "Don't miss."

King slapped the stick down onto the felt. It was a bit uncharacteristic, a show of something more than just a relaxed attitude.

Pacer felt that thrill, it spiraled up his spine and got him breathing just a bit harder. Got another part of him harder too.

"I thought I might win."

"There's still a chance."

"Nope, afraid not. You win, Pace." He turned about, put his hands at Pacer's hips and squeezed. "'Cause I'm not playin' your game no more. All that teasin' and carryin' on. No sir, that is too much." He began to half push, half lead Pacer backwards. Towards the bed.

"How do you mean?" He definitely felt stiffer for all this attention. For how this clearly, out loud, wasn't about pool anymore.

"You win. But I'm gettin' what I want. Unless, a course, you're too scared?"

He felt there was something to his own tactic in those words, and that just sent a pleased shock into him even more. Oh, he'd really won at riling them up. "I'm not scared."

"But for all that teasing, I can't just let it go. You're gonna get yours." King finally pushed Pacer onto the bed. "And you're gonna love it."

He couldn't keep the lopsided smirk from his features. Pacer felt his weak heart thrumming. When King pressed the mattress in with his own weight, Pacer situated himself right next to them. "C'mon, King. I'll show you some new things."

"Oh. There's time for that, sure." Hands tugged at his sheets, pulled them away with ease. "But not until I've taken you down a peg or two. All that teasin'. All that carryin' on in front of people, makin' things so..." King pursed his lips and seemed to think for a beat or two. He didn't finish the sentence, instead he pulled Pacer over his lap.

"Oh, come on. What're you tryin' at here?" Pacer attempted to sit. He pressed himself more upright with his elbows.

King pressed a thick hand at the small of their back, and pressured them silently to lay back down.

Pacer knew. Somewhere he knew just what King planned. And there were parts of him that said it was far too much, and even his best friend didn't have the right to do it. And there was a loud part of him that all but crooned that he was finally getting what he wanted.

"You behave, and I'll make sure to reward you."

Like a goddamn dog or something. Maybe he would have said that, but the first slap caught his breath in his throat. Pacer rubbed his forehead against the King's own smooth sheets, and let out a soft sigh. "Can't even believe you."

"And I can't believe you spent more'n a week tryin' to get me goin', instead a just sayin' somethin'."

"You did too!" It held a slightly childish tone, but he didn't care. And King didn't mind either, if the way King twitched beneath him meant anything.

"Not as long as you." And if it held a vaguely petulant tone too, it didn't really matter. It got Pacer shifting in pleasure no matter what.

"Is this all you have for me?" He pushed the sheets around, wrinkled them with clenched fists.

"No, just the start. If you'd be," Another series of slaps, "patient."

"I've been more patient than you! Took you," a grunt, at a few more on the opposite cheek. He lost his thoughts, and squirmed and scrambled internally to try and sort through the moans and sighs to find what he'd been saying.

King spread his legs a bit, allowed their lengths to press up against one another during the spanking. Whether that was coincidental or not, Pacer didn't care. All he knew was it felt amazing, and he'd gladly take more hits if it countered with the intense feeling of grinding against their cock.

"Eager lil thing, ain'tcha?"

"You got hard first. Means I won."

"Uh huh. And the bump beneath those sheets as you went about teasin' me, that was nothin'?"

"No. It uh." He ground against thighs, and tried to focus after that slap. "It was nothin'. I always..." Fuck. Too much. He knew he was a blossoming red, in both sets of cheeks. "C'mon, King."

"You want more?"

"You know I do!"

"Ask. Just ask me." They rubbed their hand real gentle like along his bottom. Tenderly, so different from the harsh slaps of before.

"I want you. Damn it, King! I want you." He glared over his shoulder.

That got the slowest grin to spread. King helped him right up, and pulled him into a quick kiss.

Normally, he didn't like to settle in with the kisses and the cuddles. There were more interesting, more immediate, things to enjoy. He didn't mind this, but he still had other things on the mind.

"I think I should show you a thing or two." He pushed King back, then crawled over him.

"Oh, I don't doubt I already know whatever you wanna show me. But feel free."

"Do you now?" He'd win. He'd take that challenge on. "Well, watch and learn, King."

King wasn't passive. King allowed Pacer to kiss along his chest, his shoulders, at his neck. Even allowed little nips and sucks that could easily show someone had been there. But all the while, King ran claiming fingers through Pacer's hair, caught it up in nice short tugs. He even worked his way down to their shoulder with one hand, and thumbed a nice pleasant massage into it.

Neither directly touched on the others cocks with anything but their lower half. It was all grinding and guiding hips.

Pacer wanted more, but damn it, he'd been the one to cave on saying he wanted more than a few pleasantly punishing slaps. He'd get King so worked up, they wouldn't be able to contain it.

If all went smooth, King would flip him over, pin him down, and show just exactly why he was the King.

Until then, he dug in at their chest and scored lines down along the pecs with smooth nails. "You like that, King? I know you do. I can see it in those eyes."

"Then why ask?" King spread one leg out a bit, angled it up so the knee was raised high. He wrapped his hands slowly down along Pacer's lower body. Fingers danced a bit lower, seemed to threaten to part Pacer's cheeks and explore a bit more of his needy body.

Pacer grinned. "Can't keep your hands offa me?"

"Can you blame me?"

"I could try. But if you want that, just ask."

"No. I think I'll wait until you do." King kept those fingers there. But he didn't move them a bit further.

All this push and shove. He'd imagined once he finally won, he'd have been able to get King to just lay back and accept it. But no, that was a fool thing to think, wasn't it? King never just lay back for anything.

Pacer never died down from a challenge. He went right for those sweet lips, and kissed in a way that had brought the breath from Charlene's lungs the night before. He maybe didn't kiss often, or like it as much as other things you could do with a mouth, but he took pride in being good at it.

King seemed to outright enjoy it. He let out a low moan, and arched up just a bit to get more pressure from Pacer's hips. Fingers seemed to want to crawl back up Pacer's back. One hand stayed in place, ready to dive into Pacer, while the other played at Pacer's hair. Pulled, tugged, massaged.

There was something nice about heavy hands. Warm, just a bit soft, and thick. They cupped him everywhere just right. Pacer couldn't help but pant when they squeezed him so nice.

Couldn't help but move down against that lower hand, silently accepting it going in.

King tilted his head, just enough to break the kiss. "You want more?"

Damn him. Damn the King. He'd been winning. He nodded though. Fine, give it to him. Just do something.

"I wanna hear that pretty low voice a yours tell me. I wanna hear my Pace let me know."

Damn him. It was a concession, wasn't it? King asked for something, in response to Pacer not quite asking. They were tied, near as his mental math could tell him. He nodded, and let out a hoarse, "Fine. I want ya. Don't you tease me anymore. Show me what you got."

Nothing had ever made his heart feel better than seeing that little smile light up that face beneath him.

Nothing had ever made his heart beat so nicely as having King flip them over and push them up just a moment later. King pinned him, and he lifted his legs up in response. He wouldn't, he couldn't, beg. But if his body made it all the easier for King to take him hard, then where was the shame in that?

He'd be lying if he said he was a virgin like this. Both giving and taking. But there was a twist of satisfaction to have the King up on him, seemingly having not done something quite like this before, all while going about it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He would never ask if King had been with another like him. That was irrelevant.

All that mattered was the reverence that showed in those fingers, that peeked out from beneath heavily lidded eyes.

He crooned. When fingers departed, he felt a need. He lifted legs to wrap about them, force them forward where they clearly wanted to go anyway.

King chuckled, and it was a rumble against Pacer's lips just a moment later. The kiss parted for a moment, and King said, "You want me?"

"You know I do."

"Well. Who am I to deny you? Especially after what's gotten into you lately, making you all tight and tense."

"I'd like you to get in me. Now." Maybe he was impatient, but he'd done his best. Weeks, he'd done his best. It wasn't fair, really. A man had rights.

That first thrust was so nice. Easy, slow, but forceful. There was no stopping, only a slow push in. It made Pacer relax to take it all.

When King finally bottomed out, he paused and pressed their sweat slick foreheads together.

Pacer wrapped legs about that body, forced him just that tiny fraction deeper. Then he relaxed them, and let King pull back.

This wasn't a slamming affair. There was nothing brutal about it.

King took him, and Pacer craved more with every inch given. He couldn't keep his heart from throbbing, and normally that might make him slow down, take things easy. Here, it just made him work more impatiently against their body. "Don't you dare stop now."

An almost apologetic smile. "I figured you didn't want me poppin' off."

"I don't care." Maybe another time he'd make sure to actually take his heart meds regularly like that doctor always insisted. Then they could both take their time, or go real hard and fast. But here? He was so close to finishing too, it hardly mattered, and he didn't think he could take much more anyway.

"You want me in, or out?"

"Out."

There was an increase in how fast those slick hips above his pressed in. King knew damn well what he was doing, and it showed. The movements were graceful, fluid, like King was just an extension of Pacer's body.

Pacer just lay back, for once, and let it happen. Let that hand wrap around his cock, let that body push in so deep and full.

He didn't expect a cap novel version of how sex worked, where both partners finished loudly, exclaiming that they both came at the same time.

But when he wasn't entirely sure whose come coated his sweaty navel first, he didn't mind that. It wasn't a loud thing. If anything, they were quieter now that they were through. That was fine too.

Pacer sat up and glanced over to King, laying just beside him on the pillow. He carefully reached down and scooped up a bit of the come on his belly. Just as quick as could be, he rubbed a bit into King's hair.

They swatted at him and shot upright. "The Hell's gotten into you?"

"You did."

And he definitely didn't mind if he got pulled into a less than gentle embrace and they wrestled a bit after. Nor was he upset when King forced a handful of their mixed fluids into Pacer's hair and really rubbed it in.

This was better than any shitty cap novel. It was just him, and his King, having the kind of good time that would only work between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that! Pacer and King sure are fun to write. This went a bit longer than I intended, but I think it worked well enough.
> 
> I'm still doing prompts in between finishing up my Rigging the Odds series, so feel free to send em on my way!


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